


Under the Mistletoe

by WingsandImpalas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: All art made by me, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas wedding, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean works for NASA, Engineer Dean Winchester, Everyones a wizard bar Dean basically, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Ireland, Irish setting, M/M, Muggle/Wizard Relations, POV Dean Winchester, Romantic broom rides, Squib Dean Winchester, Wizard Castiel, Wizard Eileen, Wizard Sam Winchester, Wizards, meeting at a wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/pseuds/WingsandImpalas
Summary: Dean clears his throat ignoring the way his face heats just at the warm sound of Cas’s laughter. Between last-minute adjustments to Optimism and nerves about Sam’s wedding. It’s been a while since he so much looked at another person with any sort of lust. Nevermind this tongue-tying attraction, he feels just from being in Cas’s vicinity and worst of all its something he's just gonna have to ignore. Mostly because he doesn't want to be that dick at Sam's wedding, but there is also the fact Castiel is a wizard. Dean hasn't had the balls to flirt with a wizard since Cassie Robinson left him heartbroken after telling him he wasn't enough. Wizards just don’t mix well with Squibs, everyone knows that..





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> So fun fact about me that you'll know if you follow me on Tumblr. I tend to underestimate my stories. I plan one shots and like Salt and Burn the story ends up much longer than I intend it to be. With this story I was hoping to post it as a whole but due to the holidays being hectic I didn't get it finished in time so I'm only posting the first chapter tonight and hopefully I'll have it done by New Year! This fic is a gift to myself as Its basically a love letter to Harry Potter and My home so I hope you enjoy those elements along with the fluff and smut that's to come. That being said I really want to say happy holidays and I hope you have a good one.

[](http://i.imgur.com/D8BXCiI)

It's 7:47 am and Dean's still packing. “I still can’t believe you put off flying to your own brother's wedding till the day before it actually happens,” Charlie scolds, for the hundredth millionth time, as Dean throws a pair of jeans into his duffel.

 

Dean rolls his eyes, gripping the phone with his shoulder as he folds up another shirt. “Hey, I’m making it on time for the bachelor party.”

 

“You don’t know that for sure! Flights get delayed,” she yells as she always does when even slightly agitated, because she's basically 80% caffeine - even at this ungodly time of day.

 

Dean sighs, throwing in an extra pair of socks just in case, before taking a well-deserved sip from his own coffee mug. “Trust me Charlie, my flight will be on time.”

 

“Dean, just because our ships usually depart on time doesn't mean the planes do. I can't believe you left it this late anyway.”

 

“I was either this or missing the launch, Charlie.”

 

“Yeah, well, while I will miss little Optimism around here, I can't say I’ll miss your surly ass.”

 

“Well, that is a bald-faced lie,” Dean says, putting down his mug to rub his temples instead. He loves Charlie like a sister, but between the stress of the launch, Sam’s wedding, and the fact that he's about to use his least favorite mode of transportation, he can't say he's up for her unnatural levels of sarcasm just yet.

 

“I’m just saying, Dean, you should be a little bit more upbeat right now. Optimism is officially airborne, Sam's getting married to a kickass girl who actually likes you, and he's paying for a free holiday in Ireland - what's not to be happy about?”

 

Dean sighs, he wants to tell her about the kind of hostility he’s going into here. About how Sam’s wedding guests are gonna judge him, or worse - pity him. All because he was born a fucking Squib. He wants to tell her everything, but just because he's not a wizard doesn't mean he doesn't have to play by their rules. So instead he says, “It's December, Charlie. Do you know how cold Ireland gets in fucking December.”

 

“Sometimes I forget what a Texan you are.”

 

“Hey, I’m from Kansas.”

 

“Mhm-hm, so you should be used to the cold then.”

 

“You're so mean to me. I just wanted you to tell me what sweater to bring.”

 

“And I’m up 2 hours earlier to help you make this decision because your hungover ass forgot to do it yesterday.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “I wasn't expecting that much tequila at a launch party.”

 

“Nobody was, my liver still hates me. I can’t imagine what the touchdown party’s gonna be like.”

 

“Don’t even think about it. It’ll be worse than what you're picturing.”

 

Charlie makes an agreeable sound, “Do you think Zeddmore will get drunk enough to pull a full Monty?”

 

Dean shivers, “God, I hope not - shirtless was bad enough.”

 

“I just didn't realize guys could be that hairy,” she says, sounding just as disgusted as she did at the party. Dean laughs just as a loud pop explodes from his living room.

 

“What was that?” Charlie asks as Sam’s giant feet clomp down the hallway.

 

Dean sighs, “Nothing, my rides just here.”

 

“You're not driving the Impala?!” she asks, just as Sam sticks his head in the doorway. Dean puts his finger to his lips. “No - I, ugh, just don’t trust airport parking,” he covers smoothly. As Sam rolls his eyes, Dean glares. It's an incredibly touching reunion.

 

“Oh that's fair, you did pack the blue sweater, right?” Charlie asks, completely unaware.

 

Dean smiles. “Yes, yes I did. I’ll call you when I land.”

 

“Okay, later nerd.”

 

“Bye Charlie,” Dean says, hanging up. He turns to Sam and sticks out an accusing finger. “You're early.”

 

“You're not ready,” Sam points out, eyes looking around the room in horror. “Please tell me you took care of the suit.”

 

“Of course I took care of the suit, it's hanging behind the door. Besides, I’m nearly finished. Hell, I would actually be finished if you didn’t arrive so early.”

 

“You know apparition is like an instantaneous thing, right?”

 

“Yes. Stop being an asshole.”

 

Sam gives Dean the annoyed little brother look, that he practically perfected at age thirteen just to ruin Dean's life. “I’m not being an asshole Dean, you are!”

 

Dean sighs. “I know. I know, I’m just -”

 

“Terrified of being judged by all my wizard friends,” Sam says, hitting the nail on the head - but not that Dean will ever admit it.

 

“No! I just hate appariting.” He says instead of admitting that Sam’s right. He is terrified of Sam’s friends, his soon to be wife’s friends, and her pureblood family. Who will all look at him like being a Squib's infectious or something. How they'll act like him just being in Sam’s presence is a crime, just like his own family did.

 

Sam gives him a knowing look while passing Dean his coat. “They’re not like the Campbells, you know.”

 

Dean grabs the coat and sighs, “Wasn’t Christian in your school's house thing?”

 

“Yeah, and I stayed as far away from him and his cronies as possible. C’mon Dean, do you really think I’d hang around with racist assholes?”

 

“I don’t know Sam, am I gonna be the only no-mag at this wedding?”

 

“They say muggle in Ireland.”

 

“That's not what I’m asking.”

 

“Dude, I’m saving you here. You saying no-mag is probably gonna get you more hate than being a muggle ever will.”

 

“Great! I am the only one, then.”

 

“No! Dean stops being paranoid about this.”

 

“It's only paranoia if I’m wrong.”

 

Sam sighs, heavily stirring his hair. “Plenty of the guests are muggles, Dean.”

 

“But none of them are in the wedding party, right?”

 

“Well, Jo’s a Muggle-born.”

 

“That's not the same thing, Sam,” Dean says sadly which makes Sam’s face fall. “I know, I know,” he says, and immediately Dean feels like an asshole, “I’m sorry. I knew you’d feel weird about this and I should have -”

 

“No Sam, don’t apologize,” Dean says, cutting of Sam’s little tirade. He rubs his temples slowly and says, “It's not your fault all your friends are wizards. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve been around any wizards that aren't you or Eileen. I’m just worried, I guess - but don't feel bad about it.”

 

“Dean, I want you to be happy at my wedding. This could be the best day of my life, and I don’t want it to be your worst.”

 

“It won’t be. You're getting married to an awesome girl and that’s all that matters. I’m so happy for you, Sammy, you have no idea. That’s all I’m going to be thinking about tomorrow, okay? I’m sorry I’m acting like a dick. I just really don’t want to fuck up your wedding by punching someone.”

 

“Most wizards have wands, Dean.”

 

“And that's why they never expect a punch to the face.”

 

Sam rolls his eyes and grabs the suit bag off the door. “The only way you’d ruin my wedding is if you lost my ring or sleep with one of the bridesmaids.”

 

“Noted,” Dean says, finally zipping up his duffel and taking the suit bag from Sam. After one last glance around, he remembers to grab the ring box of his bedside locker. Sam once again gives Dean the look, before coming over to grab his shoulder.

 

“You remember how to do this?”

 

“Yeah - arms in, don’t distract you, and don’t get myself splinched. I’m not an idiot, y’know.”

 

“You almost forgot my ring!”

 

“Not the point. Just do it now, before I change my mind.”

 

Sam nods, and around them the air starts to shift, becoming hot and claustrophobic in an instant. The world spins, and suddenly Dean feels likes he's being flung through the air and then shoved down a very thin tube. His stomach knots, then becomes jelly, and then feels like it's not there at all. Then, suddenly, there’s ground and rain.

 

Dean groans, doubling over into the wet grass. “I hate that.”

 

“I know,” Sam says patiently.

 

“I’m not gonna poop for like a week.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Ugh.”

 

“You’re such a baby.”

 

“You’re such a bitch.”

 

“Dean, you’re literally in a new country and all you’ve looked at is the dirt.” 

 

Dean gives him the finger, Sam laughs but then bends down to help Dean up.

 

Once standing, Dean looks around. They’re on a cliff of all things, and even though he can’t see over the edge, he can hear the sound of the waves beating against the rock. It smells of wet grass and salt, and the sky is consumed by gray clouds. Besides a small stone wall, there doesn’t seem to be anything around for miles. It’s shockingly beautiful, and also not the village Dean was promised. “Sam I think we’re in the wrong place.”

 

Sam sighs. “No we’re not, c’mon I’ll show you,” he says, walking towards the white wall. Dean rolls his eyes and picks up his duffle, moving through the wet grass and glaring at his brother’s back. He hates wizards and their cryptic shit.

 

Sam kneels beside the wall, pulls his wand out from his pocket and begins to tap at stones seemingly at random. Dean sighs, he should have known a town full of wizards would use cloaking spells. The second Sam stands up, the area behind the wall ripples and a small village reveals itself. Seemingly built down the cliff side. People are walking down the path; some wearing cloaks, others regular human clothes, and more than one has their wands raised above their heads - creating small domes to ward off the rain.

 

“Why don’t they just buy umbrellas,” Dean asks, eyebrows raised. Sam sighs. “What? You went to school with quills, Sam. Pens have existed for years. So have umbrellas.”

 

“Wind fucks up umbrellas, Dean. We’re on a cliff.”

 

“Point.”

 

Sam rolls his eyes. “C’mon,” he says, lifting his giant legs over the wall. Dean sighs, following Sam as he navigates the small village with ease.

 

Dean sticks close, noting how every house and shop is terraced together to face out at the ocean. Some of them seem to be shops and cafes, others seem to be homes, all brightly painted in blues and pinks; yellows and whites; stonewashed and smooth. Dean smiles. “Where are we anyway?”

 

“Baile na Draíochta, County Donegal,” Sam says proudly, wet hair clinging to his face. Beside them, a woman in a blue cloak uses her wand to hang Christmas lights on her roof. “It’s a completely wizard-based community.”

 

Dean nods, looking away from the magic to the sea instead. “Eileen grew up here, right?”

 

“Yeah, her aunt Mildred owns the hotel we're staying in.”

 

“Cool,” Dean says, twisting the straps on his duffel. “So everyone here is a wizard?”

 

“Yeah, basically.”

 

“Great.”

 

“Dean…”

 

“I know. I know, I’ll try not to be a dick.”

 

Sam sighs. “Let’s just go to the hotel,” he says, and Dean cringes. He really doesn’t want to ruin Sam's big day, but it's not like Squibs are exactly praised in the wizarding community. With humans, he’s a genius; he works for NASA, for fuck's sake. But he knows the wizarding community would never care about his achievements. His father didn’t, despite being a muggle-born And their mother’s family practically shunned him at Mary's funeral. Like being a squib meant he didn’t have the same rights to grieve. 

 

The thing is, Sam isn’t like most wizards. He’s Dean's stupidly tall little brother, and he has never tried to cut Dean out or look down on him. Swallowing the hurt for Sam’s sake, Dean forces a smile and follows Sam into a tall whitewashed building called the Cerridwen Inn.

 

Inside the small reception area a small fire blazes, making the wood-paneled room feel homely and inviting. Just like the streets, the hotel is decorated for Christmas. Two pine trees are glittering in each corner, one red and silver; the other gold and green. An older woman sits at the counter, in front of a wall of keys. She smiles when she sees Sam. “Made it there and back in one piece, I see.”

 

“Aye, it was fine,” Sam says, surprising Dean by how easily the word falls out of his mouth. The woman at the counter takes one look at his face and laughs.

 

“You must be the American brother,” she says, warmly. “I’m Mildred, Eileen’s aunt. I gotta say, your family has some good genes.”

 

Dean laughs at her flirty behavior, while Sam blushes slightly and removes his scarf. “You’re something else Mildred,” he says, just as the stairs creak as Eileen makes her way down them.

 

She smiles brightly at Dean. “Good to see you again,” she says, pulling him into a tight hug that makes Dean wheeze. Despite being so tiny, Eileen easily crushes his lungs - and doesn’t let up until he squeezes back.

 

“It’s good to see you, too,” he says when she pulls back far enough to see his mouth. She laughs, unashamedly happy and easily the most relaxed he’s ever seen her. Sam seems to melt in her presence, his smile getting instantly soppier as he pulls her in for a hug as well. They are altogether too sappy, and despite being happy for them, Dean feels the twist of jealousy in his gut for the happiness they have found in one another.

 

“You excited for tomorrow?” he asks, desperate to stop stewing.

 

“Yes,” she says, content with Sam's arm wrapped around her waist. “Meg is casting a weather spell now so it should be clear enough to see the lights tonight and tomorrow.”

 

“Awesome,” Dean says smiling, genuinely excited about this wedding for the first time since Sam proposed. A wedding under the northern lights seems like something right out of a fairytale and he's glad that he gets to be a part of it. For once he’s glad magic exists, just so they can have that moment without the fear of rain.

 

Sam goes to say something else, but is interrupted by the fire roaring to life in a burst of green flames. Instinctively, Dean jumps back, pulling Eileen and Sam back with him as a shadow falls from the chimney. From the flames, a man rises. Absentmindedly, he beats ash of his dark tweed suit, brushing lightly over his gold cloak, then looks up. Dean's breath catches as bright blue eyes shine from under a messy mop of dark hair. The green light reflects elegantly off his jaw before it recedes. Leaving the beautiful man, smiling softly as he adjusts the cuffs of his jacket.

 

[](http://i.imgur.com/8p0FWYX)

“It’s possible I used to much Floo power,” he says in a rough lilting voice. Dean swallows.

 

“Cas! You made it,” Sam yells happily, laughter in his voice.

 

The man, Cas, smiles softly; creating small crinkles near his eyes that Dean is just not equipped to deal with right now. “I told you I would.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but I thought you were still teaching till tomorrow.”

 

“Well, since Rowena is also invited tomorrow, she decided to let me have the day off.”

 

“I told you she was a nice boss,” Sam says, looking a little gooey.

 

Cas rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry if I thought your crush for her was clouding your opinion of her,” he says bluntly. Dean raises an eyebrow, looking hesitantly between Sam and Eileen, only to find her smiling.

 

“Can you really blame him?” she says, making Cas grin some more. Seeing the confusion on Dean's face, she explains, “Rowena is one of the most powerful witches to ever live.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, she’s beyond talented. She's basically a famous alchemist who’s probably over three hundred years old - not that she looks it. Oh, not to mention she just happens to be the headmistress of Hogwarts,” Sam gushes, clearly crushing hard.

 

Dean raises an eyebrow. He knew Sam was training as an apprentice in alchemy, but he didn't realize a crush would develop from it. “Well, Sammy, I didn’t know you had a thing for the older ladies.”

 

Eileen laughs. “Everyone has a thing for Rowena,” she says reassuringly, and Cas surprisingly nods in agreement.

 

Dean shakes his head, “Guess I’ll just have to meet her, then.”

 

“You will tomorrow, don’t worry. She's officiating,” Sam says excitedly.

 

Dean sighs, unsure if he should be impressed or concerned. “So wait, let me get this straight - this lady runs a wizarding school, is basically immortal, she’s teaching Sam alchemy, and officiating the ceremony.”

 

“Basically,” Cas says, smiling at Dean this time - and Dean is not gonna make it through this wedding if this guy keeps this up. “I’m Castiel Seraphim, Sam's friend from school.”

 

Dean nods, vaguely remembering the stories Sam told him during his summers off, tales about his pure-blooded roommate with a weird name, and a faded photo of a skinny dark-haired kid smiling with Sam's arm around his shoulder. The skinny haired kid has grown into an almost unrecognizably good looking man that's got Dean tongue tied just looking at him. Figures Sam would become friends with someone exactly Dean’s type and then forget to warn him about it. 

 

Shaking his head, Dean sticks out his hand. “Dean Winchester, Sam's big brother.”

 

Cas’s brows furrow and instinctively, he braces himself for the recognition to hit Cas - for the Squib comments to come. But Cas just nods and shakes Dean's hand. “You made the new Mars Rover, right?” he asks, curiously.

 

Dean blinks, “What?”

 

Dropping Dean's hand, Cas smiles. “The Mars rover, Sam wouldn't stop boasting about it.”

 

“Oh,” Dean says, shaking off his surprise, he should have known Sam would be boasting about him. “Yeah, that was me.”

 

“Amazing,” Cas says, shaking his head. “You must feel so proud of having your invention up there.”

 

“Yeah, I am,” Dean says hesitantly. Unsure of how to act, now that a wizard seems genuinely interested in what he does - never mind one as beautiful as Cas. “What about you?”

 

“What about me?”

 

“What do you do?”

 

“I teach potions at Hogwarts, though I’ve always liked the astronomy classes when I went there.”

 

“Huh. Sam never mentioned Hogwarts did astronomy.”

 

“That’s because he hated it.”

 

“Who makes children go to class at midnight?” Sam whines, while Eileen shakes her head.

 

“Cas is the reason me and Sam met,” she says to Dean.

 

Dean raises his eyebrow. “How so?”

 

Cas sighs bitterly. “I used to be a seeker in Quidditch. Our house, Slytherin, was playing against Eileen's team, Gryffindor, and it was her first match.”

 

“So what, you introduced them after the match?”

 

“No,” Cas says, glaring at Eileen. “Despite being a beginner seeker, Eileen knocked me off my broom, broke my arm, and won the match by grabbing the snitch.”

 

“Holy shit, were you okay?”

 

“Yes, luckily all I needed was some time in the infirmary. Anyway, Eileen felt bad so she came to visit me - and while she was there, Sam landed, and proceeded to ignore me in order to tell Eileen that she was a fantastic player.”

 

“Ouch, Sammy, I raised you better than to flirt in front of the injured.”

 

Sam rolls his eyes, “But flirting for a second free waffle is okay?”

 

“Yes, obviously,” Dean says, causing Eileen and Cas to laugh.

 

Dean clears his throat, ignoring the way his face heats just at the warm sound of Cas’s laughter. Between last-minute adjustments to Optimism and nerves about Sam’s wedding, it’s been a while since he so much as looked at another person with any sort of lust. Nevermind this tongue-tying attraction he feels just from being in Cas’s vicinity - and worst of all, it’s something he's just gonna have to ignore. Mostly because he doesn't want to be that dick at Sam's wedding, but there is also the fact Castiel is a wizard. Dean hasn't had the balls to flirt with a wizard since Cassie Robinson left him heartbroken after telling him he wasn't enough. Wizards just don’t mix well with Squibs, everyone knows that.

 

Desperate to get away from Cas’s magnetic presence, Dean turns to Sam. “Speaking off waffles - where can I get some grub around here?”

 

Sam smiles, “I’ll take you for something now, but you should probably check in first.”

 

“Oh, I should probably do that too,” Cas says, fixing the strap of his bag and smiling at Dean.

 

Dean sighs, picking up his duffle from where he dropped it after Cas’s entrance, and follows Cas back to Mildred at the counter.

 

She smiles at both of them. “So you're the groomsmen, then? You’ll be in rooms 401 and 402,” she says cheerfully, reaching for keys of the wall. “Hope you don’t mind conjoined rooms? Sam booked that whole row for the groomsmen, even though they're supposed to be for families.”

 

“I’m fine with it if you are?” Cas says and Dean nods, resigned to fate being a bitch at this point. Cas smiles, pocketing the key and grabbing the guest book from Mildred to write his name using a quill. Rolling his eyes, Dean pulls out the pen he put in his back pocket and writes his name with it instead.

 

Cas laughs, dropping the quill back into the inkwell and shaking his head. “Smart,” he says.

 

Dean shakes his head. “Thousands of years at witchcraft - and wizards still don’t trust pens.”

 

“At least we’ve learned to accept modern plumbing,” Cas jokes, eyes sparkling. Dean laughs, nodding his head in agreement.

 

Sam looks up from his signed conversation with Eileen, eyebrows raised. 

 

“What?” Dean asks, shifting uncomfortably.

 

Sam shakes his head, “Nothing. Just glad you two are getting along, is all. Are you ready to go?”

 

“Almost, just need to put my bag in my room.”

 

“I’ll do it,” Cas offers politely.

 

Dean narrows his eyes. “You sure?”

 

Cas nods. “Of course. Our rooms are conjoining anyway, so it's no hassle. Enjoy your lunch.”

 

“Thanks, man,” Dean says, handing his bag over before following Sam to the entrance. Looking back, he sees Cas wave before speaking to Eileen again. Dean sighs. Cas, outside of being gorgeous, seems kind and genuine and it’s just too bad Dean can’t even try and do anything about it. Not at Sam's wedding, anyway. It doesn't matter that Cas the first person to make his heart actually flutter in years. He’s not gonna embarrass himself, or his brother, like that. Hell, it’s not like Cas will ever be interested in a squib like him anyway. It’ll be easier if he just ignores him altogether - his heart won’t get broken that, way at least.

xxxx

 

The cafe Sam takes him to is not far from the hotel, and also decorated for Christmas. It’s a mishmash of wooden chairs and tables in a far different style than the diners Dean's used to. Sam sighs, “Trust me, man, it may be kitschy - but you’ll like it.”

 

Dean takes a seat, “Okay, whatever. I trust you.”

 

“Good to know,” Sam says with a laugh.

 

Within seconds, a young waitress walks over with an apron tied around her jeans. “Hey, Sam,” she says, pulling out a notepad. “You ready for tomorrow?”

 

Sam smiles, “Yeah Krissy, almost.”

 

She smiles back, “You still against our crowd drinking tonight?”

 

“You’re too young. Besides, Rowena's officiating, and as your headmistress, she’d have my hide.”

 

“Maybe just your mane,” Dean jokes automatically, causing Krissy to laugh loudly.

 

“Well, fellas, what can I get you?” she asks.

 

“Two coffees and two fry’s please, no beans,” Sam says before Dean can even look at his menu.

 

Krissy sighs, lifting the menus and muttering something about picky Americans before disappearing behind the counter. Seeing his face, Sam shakes his head. “Relax Dean, you’ll like it - it’s basically all meat and fried food.”

 

“So why the hell did you order it?”

 

“So you wouldn’t make fun of me the day before my wedding, you jerk.”

 

“Sam, have you seen the length of your hair? I’ve got plenty to make fun of.”

 

Sam kicks him under the table and Dean kicks back, fighting the urge to laugh. Despite Sam being away from school, they always managed to stick close, mostly by using a magic mirror, that John’s only friend, Bobby, gave them for Christmas. But he still missed Sam when he was at school. It’s gotten better since Sam’s been able to apparate but it’s moments like this he misses the most.

 

Dean shakes his head. “Dude, you're getting married tomorrow. Time to start acting like an adult and respect your elders.”

 

“You’re only four years older than me,” Sams says, like the grouchy thirteen year old he is inside.

 

Dean laughs just as Krissy sets down a plate of deliciousness right in front of him. “Wow, this actually looks good,” he says, staring down at the mix of sausages and bacon, three kinds of bread, plus what looks like a tiny pancake, grilled tomatoes and - “What's this black stuff?” he asks Krissy, jabbing the little black circle with his fork.

 

“Black pudding,” she says, while Dean takes an experimental and surprisingly good bite. Krissy smiles deviously. “It's fried sheep's blood.”

 

Dean chokes, and Krissy passes him a cup of steaming coffee just in time. Sam, the asshole, laughs and eats some pancake. “Enjoy your meals, fellas,” she says, flouncing away incredibly pleased with herself. Dean rolls his eyes and kicks Sam under the table.

 

After a while, he resumes eating, being sure to avoid the black pudding out of spite. Sam smiles, “I watched the launch live, you know? It was impressive as hell.”

 

Dean ducks his head. “It's not like I built the rocket, Sam.”

 

“I know, but your invention is up there now, Dean. That's insane. I mean, when I used to come home and see you tinkering all the time, I never thought it’d lead to something as cool as space travel. I just thought it’d mean I’d get more cool toys from you for the rest of my life. I’m proud of you, man.”

 

Dean shoves a sausage in his mouth to avoid the conversation. He never told Sam that he only made Sam so much shit because he wanted to keep his attention. Being a Squib meant he couldn't entertain Sam with Quidditch or spells, but he had his own two hands to work with. Making things has always been something Dean took pride in - but he can’t help but feel like he's less than Sam somehow. Logically, he knows that feeling comes from John, their Auror father who wasn't even around most of the time. Who's still in the wind, and missing Sam’s big day - yet always managed to make Dean feel inferior.

 

Swallowing, Dean forces those dark thoughts away and thinks about tomorrow instead. “I’m proud of you too, Sam. I mean, Eileen is awesome and I’m glad she likes you enough to marry you - but you’ve done well for yourself. Living this amazing life I can barely understand. I mean, I never really saw you living the little village life, but it suits you.”

 

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam says happily.

 

Dean rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay, enough of the chick flick.”

 

“Dean, it's a wedding. It’s a guaranteed chick flick.”

 

“Fine,” Dean says, groaning falsely. “Then you better explain to me why my suit is green.”

 

“That was Eileen's idea. She wanted to honor that moment we met somehow, so we used our house colors as the main theme - but merged them together; pairing silver and red, and green and gold together instead, to show us coming together.”

 

“That's disgustingly sweet.”

 

“I know,” Sam says, smiling like a sap. Dean rolls his eyes. Their lunch together passes quickly after that, due to Sam rushing to get done in time for the bachelor party - until he eventually leaves Dean straight after they finish eating, to do some setting up at the beach. Dean wanders back to the hotel, appreciating the town more now that the rain has stopped and the clouds have started to part thanks to whatever spell Sam’s friend pulled. It's still cold though, so he doesn't drag his feet - and once inside, he appreciates the real fire more than he probably should.

 

Warm and well fed, Dean experiences something close to jet lag. And despite the fact that he should probably be helping with wedding prep, he finds himself walking upstairs for a nap instead. On his way, he passes a tall man, who’s hanging a little ball from the ceiling and almost falls off his ladder in the process. Dean rushes to steady him.

 

“Thanks, man,” he says in a thick Irish accent.

 

“Don't worry about it,” Dean says, holding the ladder still as the gangly man comes down.

 

He smiles, big and wide, and sticks his hand out. “I’m Garth, Eileen's cousin. You must be Sam's brother Dean, right?”

 

“What gave me away?” he asks, a little bit surprised.

 

“It's your accent,” another deep voice says from down the hall. Dean resists the urge to sigh as he looks up to see Cas standing at the end of the hall. Cloak and suit jacket removed to show off his buttoned shirt rolled up to his forearms. All complemented with a charming, almost sheepish smile.

 

“What about my accent?”

 

“You're distinctively southern.”

 

“I’m from the Midwest,” Dean says, offended.

 

Cas rolls his eyes and looks at Garth for sympathy. “They assume we know the difference, yet they can't tell a Cork apart from a Kerri.” Garth nods.

 

“I feel like I’m getting mocked for being an American more than being a Squib at this point.”

 

Garth nods, “That seems about right.”

 

Dean sighs. “Sam’s American,” he yells, because it's still true - even if the Campbell name gave him an English scholarship.

 

“Don’t worry, we give him stick for it, too,” Cas says with a smile.

 

Dean will probably never understand their stupid phrases, but he does get the gist of what Cas said and concedes defeat. “Fine, just don't mock the space program - or we’ll have words.”

 

Cas laughs. “Good to know,” he says as Garth starts to take down the ladder and walks further down the hallway, laughing.

 

Cas leans up against the wall and smiles suspiciously. “You’ll be fine as long as you don't use the word No-Mag. That would get you turned into a toad for Sam’s wedding.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sam already warned me about that.”

 

“Good,” Cas says, smiling again. “What are your plans for today, then?”

 

“A nap. I'm still five hours behind the rest of you guys, and apprating takes a lot out of me.”

 

Cas makes a sympathetic noise, “I forgot about that. My ex was a muggle, and he always complained about the drowsiness that came after.”

 

Dean lifts an eyebrow, both at the pronoun Cas used, and the fact that Cas’s ex was a common mortal. It means nothing, of course - Dean has no intention of trying to get into Cas’s pants. No matter how gorgeous Cas is. He’s got a plan, and he’s sticking to it. So instead of asking about his ex or pursuing anything flirty like he wants to, Dean asks, “What about you? What're your plans?”

 

“Seeing if I can borrow a cauldron of Mildred.”

 

“Really?” Dean asks eyebrows raised.

 

“Yes. At Sam’s request, I plan on brewing a hangover cure for everyone tomorrow. Specifically him, as he also has to put up with my brother who will insist on buying Sam every drink imaginable.”

 

Dean laughs. “Is your brother Gabriel?” he asks, remembering stories Sam told him about an older Slytherin boy that got him sent to detention more often than was to be expected.

 

Castiel gives a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. Yes, he is. I’m assuming Sam told you about the swamp story?”

 

“Are you kidding? It was the only time my dad ever sent him a howler. I still have no clue how he got involved in a scheme like that.”

 

“If it helps, Gabriel mostly bullied me into helping him prank Professor Snape. Sam just tagged along.”

 

“Why you?”

 

“Because I was good at potions. Snape would at least deign to stop and talk to me in the corridor long enough for the spell to be cast. He wasn't exactly the nicest teacher, you see - a bully more than anything. And Gabriel really wanted to teach him a lesson,” Cas says, in the fed up tone of a brother resigned to suffering. Dean laughs more at Cas’s matter of fact tone, rather than a story he’s heard a million times. There's just something about Cas’s straight face that's really getting to him.

 

“So he put a swamp with a live alligator in his office?” Dean asks, trying to contain his laughter.

 

Cas sighs, “Unfortunately, Sam wasn't that bad since he was only keeping watch - but Gabe got expelled.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“No, it was for the best, really. He’s making a fortune selling the rights to his original spells, including that swamp one. He’s better off, really. I’m just not sure about the rest of the world.”

“Oh no, we’re definitely all doomed,” Dean says, wiping a tear from his eye, as Cas smiles triumphantly. “I’ll let you sleep,” he says, grin softening. “You're probably gonna need your energy to deal with him.”

“Sure as hell sounds like it,” Dean says with a grin. Cas shakes his head as he walks away. Dean watches him go - only looking at his ass in a pair of tight suit pants for a second, before he remembers himself. Still smiling, Dean enters his homely looking room and flops on the bed with a relieved sigh. He's definitely got to sleep if he’s going to be dealing with a bunch of drunk warlocks tonight. But maybe it won’t suck as much as he feared it would. At least he’ll have Cas around to make him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you liked it. If you have any questions, comments or just want to say hi come visit me on [tumblr](https://wingsandimpalas.tumblr.com/) before it goes up in flames. I love you all happy holidays!


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